Blood of my Blood, Flesh of my Flesh
by Gothamshope
Summary: Jeremy Salvatore knows that there's always been something between the three of them, a thing he couldn't quite figure out despite living many lifetimes over; it's beyond protectiveness, beyond brotherly concern. For more than 150 years, it's been simmering underneath the surface, maybe even long before their transformation. But it's about change everything. *warning: incest*


Hello. First time using this site as well as first time writing anything related to Vampire Diaries. So here's a few things you should know as well as a few changes I've made.

First off, Jeremy is no longer Jeremy Gilbert. Instead he's Jeremy Salvatore, younger brother of Damon and Stefan. Next, THE WARNING: this story is about **incest** between the three of them. Sorry if that makes you uncomfortable but this is the only warning you get, because if you continue on it'll eventually get there and thus I don't want someone to act outraged or shocked when I clearly am warning you. Of course it's not all gunho and jumping into sexy times. Instead it's more about the plot, because I love plot more than written porn. I promise it's not just throwing them all together, it'll be more than that.

Changes: Jeremy is the one to save Elena from the car crash that killed her parents. This changes things and also aids in the way I want to tell the story. More changes will be added to further chapter notes.

Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters nor anything related to the show and it's writers or plot.

Thank you and hope you enjoy.

-/-

It's funny, sometimes when he stops and thinks about the fact that he has to live for eternity. One would think time would pass achingly slow because of it, but he finds it's the opposite really. He blinks and a month has gone by, he breathes and a half a year is gone, and then he wakes from a deep sleep to find a new year has passed without much commotion. Time passes fast as does everything when he runs. These past years spent alone, he hasn't stopped moving, hasn't had the reason to do so.

So when he finally did stop, he had no idea at the time that it was the catalyst that would change his eternity.

The sound of squealing tires and a deafening crash is what brought his fast paced world to a sudden halt. The next thing he knows he's diving headfirst into the river, the sounds of muddled screams coming from down below the dark swirling water. He swims at an inhuman speed to reach the sinking car, managing to rip off the dented metal frame of the door, tossing it aside as it disappears into the abyss. Inside the screaming have seized, the teen girl in the back floating lifelessly with her long hair billowing around her.

He snaps her seatbelt like it's nothing, grabbing her and hauling them upwards, quickly breaking the surface of the water. He manages to swim them to the edge, carry his charge up the hill and preform CPR on her within a mere minute. The relief he feels is overwhelming when she coughs out water, chest heaving with a deep lungful of air. He wastes no time to run back to the river and dive back down to grab the other passengers. They're a middle-aged couple, probably the girl's parents. When he lays them out on the road and tries to resuscitate them , it turns out to be a useless effort.

The couple remains still even after arduous ministrations, both sets of lips blue and matching head wounds bleeding sluggishly.

He takes a moment of silence as they lay next to their unconscious daughter, who does not know yet that she has lost those dear to her. He then turns and runs to the nearest payphone he saw about 5 miles back, dialing 911 and making short work of asking the operator to send help to Wickery Bridge.

After he hangs up, he rushes in the blink of an eye back to where the girl lays, holding her hand as he waits for help to arrive. It's only then when he the dim streetlight catches her face, he sees what she looks like and finds himself frozen.

It's a face he has not seen in over 150 years.

He so struck that the slack hand suddenly flexes in his grip, catching him off guard. The girl's eyes are fluttering, dazed from the crash. When she focuses on him from her prone position, there's fear and confusion swimming in her gaze. Her wide brown eyes are innocent the way her doppelganger's weren't.

It's what makes him swallow down the urge to take off, instead he squeezes her hand. "It's ok. You're gonna ok."

She starts shiver, chin trembling as a tear makes a way down her face. She doesn't say anything, seemingly stuck on his solid presence. He's glad, because he would hate to have her discover the bodies of her deceased parents nearby.

They continue to look at one another, until the sounds of sirens miles away reach his ears. Not more than 10 minutes later, the ambulance appears, bathing the scene in blue and red lights. He doesn't let go of the hand that grips his own desperately.

-/-

Her name is Elena Gilbert, 17 year old cheerleader, and considerably an all around popular girl.

But after this horrific night, she's now an orphan.

The medical staff informed him when they arrived to the hospital that the next of kin has been called, an aunt who lived a few states away and would be here as soon as possible. For now though, she's alone and that's the biggest reason that makes him decide to stay. When any protests of him not being family rise, he simply compels their worries away.

Sitting in her hospital room, hours after the accident, he watches her sleep. Aside from probably lurking into 'creeper' territory, he's too caught up in the fact that the harsh light of the sterile room brings out her eerily recognizable features.

For years they've been hunting the person with the same face, and for years his resentment over the fact has grown to deep loathing. It's the biggest reason of why he left them in the first place.

And yet, he's the one to stumble upon her, in a twist of fate. Could she be related to the woman who caused their descent into the land of the eternal dead? It's a question he doesn't really desire an answer for. It's a question that means nothing in light of recent events.

He's pulled from his thought when he hears a shaky inhale come from the bed, the occupant's eyes opening and closing quickly, trying to adjust to the unfamiliar surrounding and disorientation.

"Hey," he starts softly, standing up to walk near the bed.

Her eyes are glued to him, seemingly dazed at his presence. "It's you." She looks so small in the bed, hair still damp from the river; almost fragile in a way that her lookalike wouldn't dare appear to others.

He nods in response.

Her brows furrow as if she's trying to recall something. "You…saved me."

He doesn't answer, because the unspoken blunt truth is that he didn't save everyone.

"Why…," her voices crocks, grated from the near drowning. "Why did you stay?"

"Your aunt is coming, but she can't be here at the moment. I figured after the night you've been through, the last thing you wanna be is alone."

At that her face crumbles, eyes closed in unspeakable pain. While feeling deep empathy for her, he can't fully understand the thought of loosing two people who raised you and essentially were your entire world in the way hers clearly were. He was just a babe when his own mother passed and doesn't have any memory of her besides the photos and the stories he was told. When his father passed, the news was met with a mix of feelings; his father was not always a kind man.

Elena's hand unconsciously seeks out comfort, and he doesn't hesitate to grip hers firmly.

"I'm sorry," he begins, hesitant for a rare second. "I tried but…"

She nods quickly with eyes still shut, stalling any further words as she tries to compose herself. He continues to hold her hand, willing to stay besides her as long as she needs it.

She sniffs, opening redlined eyes to look at him. He notices she must feel self conscious at the fact she's vulnerable in front of a stranger, discreet glances at their connected hands. He rubs a thumb over her knuckles to soothe as of those feelings. After a few minutes, her posture seems to ease, weary after a long night. He drags his chair closer to the bed, sitting down without letting her hand go.

"Thank you." He looks up as she shuffles in her bed, body angled towards him. "Thank you for staying with me."

He sends a small smile, hoping it shows that it wasn't a burden at all.

"What's your name?" she asks, voice quiet in the safety of their shared space.

"Jeremy," he answers back just as softly. "Jeremy Salvatore."


End file.
